


Red Mist

by fandumbandflummery



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, I mostly just wanted to use that tag, Light Dom/sub, Light Femdom, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Sex Pollen, Well that escalated quickly, boner spray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 11:52:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10741164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandumbandflummery/pseuds/fandumbandflummery
Summary: Pre regrets removing his helmet so soon after entering the tent. He could’ve really used those environmental toxin filters about now.





	Red Mist

**Author's Note:**

> Another promptfic, based on the phrase - "You’re gonna sit there and watch, and not move an inch unless I tell you otherwise." 
> 
> ~*WARNING*~: Contains non-consentual use of an aphrodisiac drug/sexpollen type substance. If that sorta thing upsets you but you clicked anyways, please look away now. If not, well, can't say I didn't warn you.

Pre is really, really, trying to be a shabla adult about this. He knows all couples have their dry spells - he and Bo-katan have had their own before - and that this is hardly worth ending a three-year-old relationship that is entirely healthy (well, by Mandalorian reckoning) in every way besides.

But oh, Manda'ner, it’s been well over a month and he’s starting to get impatient. VERY impatient.

Jacking off for relief lost its allure for him back in the distant mists of puberty and while he’s got plenty of fond memories to draw on now, imagined events are hardly worth the wrist-ache when he could have the real thing.

He’s not going to force himself on Bo-Katan - there are lines even the most hard-line Mandalorian will never, ever cross - but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to be forward about what he wants and how unhappy he is with *not* getting it. And okay, maybe whining like a lost massif pup whenever she pulls away from a make out session that was this close to being an actual sexual encounter is probably turning her off him even more, but he’s frankly desperate. Even in the early hours of the morning, when *she* used to be the one who’d be pawing at him for a dawn-light fuck, Bo-Katan just brushes his hands off her tits or away from between her legs, shakes her head, and goes back to sleep.

He’s pretty sure it’s not because he’d been replaced in her affections - it’s not in Bo-Katan's nature to be secretive, and frankly she would’ve kicked him as hard as she could in the gett'se and shagged his replacement on the floor in front of him while he groaned in pain if that were the case. Or that she’s pregnant - the other Nite Owls have assured him many times that they’d probably know even before *she* did. Not that he’d consider *that* a bad thing, granted he would’ve liked to wait until they re-took Mandalore and not have her be out of action for over a year…but that was a discussion for another night.

Besides - he thinks grumpily one tense night by the great bonfire - its her own damn fault that I’m this needy now. She’s the one who got me used to being jumped every time I so much as walked by her tent in half-armor.

He glares at her unreadable visor through the leaping flames. Suddenly, she turns to face him and flicks her head in the general direction of her tent. It’s the sign he’s been waiting for for weeks, and he nearly drops his tankard of tihaar-laced tea into the fire in surprise at the casual suddenness of it.

It’s all he can do not to leap up, punch the air, and shout “Kandosii!”

Instead, Pre goes for the dignified route and gives a consenting nod, replacing his helmet before getting up and following Bo to the relative quiet and privacy at the edge of the camp.

He’s no sooner pushed aside the flap covering the doorway and removed his bucket when suddenly Bo is there, shoving him against a support pillar and kissing him hard, wrapping one strong thigh around his waist, their as-yet unshed armour plates colliding with a dull click. Pre gives back as good as he gets from her, kissing back with a ferocity that even surprises him. He tangles one hand in her hair, yanking none too gently while the other grabs at her ass, pulling her as close as he can and shamelessly rutting against her thigh, past giving a damn since the last hyperspace exit. In response, Bo’ *growls* against his mouth, sinking her teeth into his bottom lip, green eyes blazing pure lust and challenge.

Oh, but he’s missed this.

She backs him further into the tent - thankfully devoid of any Nite Owl onlookers, this time - past the canvas curtain separating her ‘bedroom’ from the rest of the structure. Pre is bent on taking no chances this time, and manages to shed most of his upper armour, dumping the pieces of plate where they fall and getting his bodysuit open and shrugged down off his shoulders, desperate for her touch on his bare skin. In his haste to get his gear off he accidentally clips her face with a gauntleted hand, and Bo reels back suddenly, holding her jaw.

“Ow, di'kut,” she mutters, rubbing at the spot; but then laughs when she sees his downright horrified expression.

Pre just grins, pressing their foreheads together as he lets her unlatch his bracer and yank the offending gauntlet off, before pushing him down onto her makeshift bed. Bo’ immediately straddles him, and he doesn’t bother to muffle his loud groan as she leans down and rakes her teeth along the sensitive underside of his jaw. This is great and all, but she’s entirely still too clothed for his tastes, and his lower armour is definitely beginning to pinch, especially with Bo’s weight bearing down right on top of his groin. Evidently she can read his thoughts, because she rises up a bit on her knees and reaches downwards, her fingers tracing over the release catches of his lower armour. Finally. Pre bites his lip, lets his head fall back and eyes slip shut for a brief moment-

Suddenly there’s a hiss, and a cloud of pinkish mist materializes between them.

“Osi'kyr wayii- Bo!” He bolts upright, wheezing and coughing, waving his hand to try - unsuccessfully- to dissipate the cloud away from his face, instead only succeeding in fanning it about. It stings his eyes, making them water, and rubbing them seems to only make it worse. Through the haze of fog and tears he registers Bo-Katan leaning over him, holding a thumb-sized spray canister in her other hand.

“W-what IS this stuff?” It smells strongly, and tastes even more powerful, over-perfumed and fruity; like uj syrup but even sweeter, with something sickly and chemical in the aftertaste that makes his stomach turn unpleasantly.

“Something I picked up during my last run on the night markets of Zardossa,” Bo’ replies, casually setting the tiny sprayer off to the side, ignoring Pre’s attempts to wipe the taste off his tongue with a corner of his partly-shed flight suit.

“An old Weequay chemist recommended it to me - she described it as ‘convenient little cocktail for you, the mercenary female, for man’ ”, she continues, doing her best impression of the woman’s heavy accent, and normally Pre would’ve laughed at that if he wasn’t more than a little worried that his lieutenant-wife had just fatally poisoned him.

“She said it was a trade secret brew, but my enviro analyzer tells me it’s a blend of glitterstim, a few common herbal essences, Strill pheromones and musk, pollen from Giant Felucian Amorphophallus flowers - and a bit of chemically pure Togruta venom.”

Pre can’t suppress his shudder of dread - Tog venom. He knows what that can do to human males even in the mildest concentrations. Best case; priapism, a rapid heartbeat, and a wicked hangover the next day. Worst case; loss of consciousness, muscle and cardiopulmonary paralysis, and death - in minutes.

As if to prove the brew’s effectiveness, he suddenly feels way too hot all over, despite the cool air in the room and the breeze slipping through a rip in the wall. His heart feels like its going to burst out of his chest and fierfek, if he thought his groin plate was a little tight before, it’s completely unbearable now, cock going from half-hard to painfully stiff in seconds, wedged at an awkward angle under about four inches of solid beskar.

Pre regrets removing his helmet so soon after entering the tent. He could’ve really used those environmental toxin filters about now. 

But he’s pretty sure he’s at least not dead, which is a plus. A small one. 

Bo-Katan simply places her hands on his bare chest, and gives him a shove that he’d barely feel normally - but which now sends him sprawling on his back, the contact point of her palms burning like a brand for minutes after.

“What’re y'gonna do t'me?’ he murmurs, suddenly unable to even speak clearly or sit up again, muscle movements restricted to pitiful writhing. He feels trapped, yet oddly distant - a mere observer in his own body - but still feeling the full effects of the poison now rushing through his blood, burning him from the inside out, making him gasp for breath as if he’s been running uphill.

Bo-Katan sighs, grinding down against his thrice-damned, still-armoured groin, and gives him a wicked smile.

“Oh, what am *I* going to do to you? Since you seem dead set on acting like a strill in heat and makin’ a nuisance of yourself just because for once, I don’t feel like sex every other night, I might as well make the experience a little more…authentic for you,” she pulls off one of her gauntlets and downright lovingly cups the left side of his face, brushing her thumb over the sabre scar. The touch of her bare hand on his cheek burns like the day it was cut, sending his pulse racing even faster - when exactly did that spot get so sensitive?

“I’m going to get undressed, now, and stack my armour and fold my flight suit like a good girl,” she says hotly, leaning down to speak directly into his ear.

“You’re gonna sit there and watch, and not move an inch unless I tell you otherwise. Which should be pretty easy for you, seeing as you’ve got a mild case of full body paralysis, which is gonna last for a couple hours at the least.“

Bo’ then rolls off to the side, patting his stomach and enjoying the flinch the touch earns her.

“Then, once I’m naked, I am going to ride your face and you will make me come as many times as I demand you do,” she continues, deceptively sweet tone undermining the command in her words, “anything less, and I’ll double-dose you, tie you to the tentpole with your own ammo belt, and leave you in here alone, naked and hard, till the stuff works its way out of your system by itself.” 

Pre whines at the thought, and tries to articulate his speech enough to plead, no, please don’t...

“But if you do well, if you get me off enough,” she purrs, “once I’ve had enough of your mouth, I’ll work my way down here,” to illustrate her point she trails her hand down his chest to his stomach, pausing just where the line of dark blond hairs vanishes under his belt.

“And I’ll take this thing off,” she presses the heel of her hand down hard against the armour plate, the increased pressure making him gasp, involuntarily bucking up against it even as it hurts.

“And I’ll tug the rest of your kit off, and then - and only then - if you ask nicely, I’ll sink down on that cock and ride you till you can’t take it anymore, till you’re begging for me to stop, to let you come and leave you alone,” she licks at the outer shell of his ear, and he shivers.

“Hopefully then you’ll think twice before driving me up the shabla wall every time you get a bit frisky.”

Bo’ then grabs Pre’s chin, roughly turning his face to her own, her green eyes boring into his icy blue ones, now gone misty and unfocused with arousal and drug-haze.

“So have we got a deal, Pre'ika?”

Pre's scream of 'elek' wakes up half the camp.


End file.
